


A Damsel in Distress

by Blue_Sparkle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fist Fights, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malfunctioning Nanites, Post-Recall, Smoke Monster Reaper, Spy Stuff, daring rescues, double agent Reaper, the hurt is incredibly mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-24 20:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle
Summary: While Reaper infiltrates a Talon leader's hideout his control over his nanites is interrupted, leaving him unable to be more than a cloud of smoke or a helpless wobbly mess.Thankfully there's an old friend to call in for a daring rescue and to carry him out of danger.





	A Damsel in Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petitecreame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitecreame/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy <3

Though it was frequently annoying, the constant infighting and attempts to climb up the ladder of influence within Talon’s ranks worked to Reaper’s advantage more often than not. 

Sometimes it was quite infuriating to be part of a group that had no loyalties and was in such disarray in the lower ranks, especially after spending his entire adult life in situations where he demanded obedience, loyalty, and discipline. Sometimes he could put that aside when he could use it to get what he wanted through threats or bribes. Easy enough, when barely anyone was loyal to more than the money. 

It also helped his goal to see the entire thing burn to the ground with nothing left to rebuilt it.

Given that backstabbing was very nearly expected, Reaper sometimes even got _paid_ to take out important structures within the organization. If he could gain access to information that would harm the rest of the lot while he was at it and weaken the entire thing…well, they didn’t need to know that.

This time it wasn’t even the high up masters that offered him pay and pointed their fingers. This time it was stupid squabbling within the mid level ranks that was cause for action. 

Enrico Marchetti had made enemies out of enough CEOs and rich Talon businessmen that they decided to combine their funds to hire the Reaper, to sic Marchetti and teach him a lesson. That Marchetti happened to have some files that Reaper wanted for himself wasn’t something they knew or would have cared for. What was a mercenary supposed to do with an intimate knowledge of weapon smuggling within southern Europe after all?

No, to hunt down Marchetti, who had retreated to his own private hide out with his own private security unit, was more than enough for them.

Reaper hadn’t taken long to scout out his base, built into an ancient castle that overlooked the sea on Spain’s eastern coast. It used to be a fort once, belonging to a family of rich nobles that had relocated to Italy sometime in the late 19th century. Marchetti had been the one to take a renewed interest in that part of his family lineage, quietly gloating about being old money _and_ nobility at once, seeing himself as more deserving of being high up within the secret organisation that tried to rule the world than some others.

The trade in luxury vehicles, both on and below water as well as on land had given him money, but not very much prestige within the ranks of Talon yet. It didn’t compare to actual weapon trade or other things that could directly benefit Talon gaining power.

Marchetti had done the dumb thing, and quietly collected data on fellow mid rank rich Talon members that had no say in the grand scheme of things. Enough to extort and commandeer them around for sure. He had at least done the clever thing of retreating to his ancestral home near the rugged cliffs of the Mediterranean, securely hiding any information on the matter in a hard to access area – both geographically and technically.

Combining a castle of the early modern age with the fortification of a Talon base? Probably something Reaper would have done himself, if he had to pick a good location from what he had to work with.

Reaper watched the fort from a distance for the better part of a day until darkness would cover him, taking in the old brown stonewalls as well as the one modern addition in the shape of a tower right in the middle of the base. It was built onto a much shorter old one, sleek metal rising high against the dark grey clouds. It served both as an outlook and an antenna that was more powerful than the old structure could have supported on its own.

He could barely make out the guards patrolling the walls through the heavy rain that had started early in the morning, but he could tell that their frequency was enough to make climbing up fast enough difficult. The only real entrance to the fort was through the firmly locked main gates, and the walls got an additional benefit from the cliffs they were built on. Anyone who had to rely on actually _climbing_ would be in trouble, especially as it would be difficult to be quick enough to not be spotted at all without making a noise either.

Reaper patiently waited for one set of guards to pass, hidden in the darkness and the rain. He repositioned soundlessly and shifted into a cloud of smoke before anyone could spot him, making his way past the spots of light and the guard’s watchful eyes with ease. Nobody spotted him as he broke into the main building in the middle of the fort, sneaking along with laughable ease.

The inside was all ancient stonework and buildings that had never been meant for the technology of the 21st century. Though somewhat discreet Reaper could still see the cables attached to corners in the ceiling or the floor, sometimes hidden under rugs in the more fancy areas. Whoever was responsible for modernizing the fort hadn’t tried updating the walls or hiding away any of the new tech. It helped navigating the maze of hallways and ancient architecture, allowing Reaper to follow the cables to important points. 

It took a few tries of evading the guards and running into dead ends to get where he wanted. More than once Reaper came across what must have been Marchetti’s private areas, with a dining room, several entertainment points and a lavish bedroom that was styled to mimic a renaissance noble’s house. All those little comforts required energy, which was why Reaper kept following the cables towards them and not where he needed to be.

Finally, after at least four such incidents the faint hum of electronic devices let Reaper know that he was on the right track. He seeped through a closed wooden door carefully, noticing two guards in front of several screens, radars, communication, and a few camera feeds. For a place like this there were barely any security cameras at all, but it hadn’t mattered much to Reaper’s way of infiltrating buildings.

He glanced around again to make sure that there were no nasty surprises besides the guards, before materializing behind them and smashing their heads into their desks with enough force to knock them out properly. Those two hadn’t even bothered to wear helmets.

Reaper shoved one of the guards out of his chair unceremoniously and settled down to get to work. A slide of his claw tipped gloves over his gauntlet opened up a hidden compartment for a memory stick, which he picked up and connected to one of the monitors.

It glowed purple briefly; quickly working to bypass what little security they had in place. As Reaper had entered while the computers were being used, there wasn’t much in terms of protection left, leaving him to quickly search for what he needed.

He quickly found what he was looking for, searching out Marchetti’s shipment information and how exactly he hid whatever needed to be smuggled past borders in his vehicles, both for Talon and privately. Some of it was coded, but somebody else could bother with cracking that. He could have gotten that information elsewhere, but this was the easiest way to get his hands on it without raising suspicion as to why he wanted to know. Reaper transferred all he could find onto his device, and set to look for what he was actually paid to do while he waited for ammunition against Talon to be done loading.

He took another device from his pocket, this one not nearly as good at cracking passwords automatically compared to the one Sombra had generously gifted him for their common cause of causing chaos. It would do for his current employers.

As he waited, Reaper glanced over the security that was in place. This was only one of the control rooms, and certainly not the main one. Besides the lack of video feed there didn’t seem to be very many of the usual things in place. He hadn’t seen any modern doors, nor had he noticed anything like motion sensors or thermal cameras. Some of it was probably hard to install in an old building such as this, but Reaper had to question whether or not there was something else hidden away here, some form of security that he had yet to spot. It would be foolish to rely on the location of the fort entirely after all.

The transfer of files was completed, so Reaper took his devices and glanced at the unconscious guards. He’d be gone by the time those two were discovered, but he didn’t need them to go running off. One of the two had a set of hard light cuffs on his belt, so Reaper quickly attached them to each other and the heaviest looking table in the room.He waited until he was sure that there was nobody outside before making his way through the hallways again..

Nothing private had been on the computers the guards could access, so if Reaper wanted to find anything truly scandalous on Marchetti he’d need to return to his private areas. Men like him always had something to hide, and even if it was nothing Reaper particularly cared for, it would help the ones who wanted to get him back. The more he brought back, the more he’d get paid, and this was too easy a job to let go to waste.

Tracing back his steps to the bedroom Reaper quickly set to work. There were only so many places things could be hidden, so he set to checking the bedside table first. A small book with handwritten appointment dates, some books about Omnics as business partners, and a few pills against headaches were yielded in that first search. Reaper had to force himself to stop from being more thorough, not really caring at all for the man whose things he was searching. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave - nevermind finishing the job as well as he could. 

Somewhere a door creaked, and Reaper heard laughter and heavily accented Spanish being spoken. Marchetti was coming back to his room.

For a moment Reaper considered just leaving, but then he decided to stay. Scaring Marchetti personally was somewhat of a bonus after all.

He shifted to smoke, hiding in the shadow and waiting patiently for the big wooden doors to the bedroom to open. Marchetti walked in laughing at something as he clicked off his phone. He was tall, slim, hair slicked back and wearing an expensive suit that was in disarray as he was already in the process of undressing.

The undignified little squawk he let out as Reaper appeared before him was beautiful, and his stumbling attempt to get away sending him to the floor without Reaper needing to even lay a hand on him was just the cherry on top.

“Hello, Enrico,” he growled out, watching the “dangerous” Talon leader scramble to get away from him.

“Wh-who sent you?” Marchetti gasped out, voice more composed than his attempts to get out of range would have let on.

“Does it matter?” Reaper asked, stepping towards him casually.

“It does. If… if it’s those _fools_ that- What are they paying you? I can double… _triple_ it easily.”

Reaper cocked his head to the side, considering. He already had what he wanted; he could perhaps take the higher pay…

“Tempting, but I do have a reputation to uphold. Wouldn’t complete a single job if I let people pay me off.”

He reached for Marchetti and several things happened at once.

Marchetti curled up to shield his face, one of his hands reaching for his cufflinks. Something clicked, a panic button, and before Reaper could figure out if it was an alarm or a trap being set of something heavy vibrated through the air. He froze, listening, before realizing that he hadn’t done so voluntarily.

What felt like an EMP rushed through his body, different from what he knew, affecting his nanites in a way he wasn’t used to. Alarms started blaring mere seconds later as Reaper lost any control of his shape, falling to the ground in a puff of smoke.

He could still move like that, though any attempt to pull himself together was met with his nanites screaming in disarray, feeding him a jumble of information he couldn’t parse. It only lasted for a few seconds before he shifted back into his body, already running towards where he knew the exit to be.

The strange vibration picked up again, stronger than before and Reaper tried to run from wherever the source of the pulse was.

This time the lights all flickered off when it hit.

He barely restrained himself from screaming out as the pulse rippled through his body, making him stumble to the ground. Reaper groaned, rolling out of sight behind a corner as quick as he could. For a few moments he wondered if he was hit by a bullet, before a strange shiver ran through him. It felt like the numb agony of having lain on a limb long enough to cut off blood flow, only his entire body was affected. The nanites scrambled, disoriented by whatever the frequency of the pulse had been, making movement nearly impossible.

The air buzzed and the light returned, dimmer than before as if it was now powered by backup generators. The alarm stopped but voices were rising nearby, the guards alerted to his presence.

Reaper snarled as he realized that his arms were starting to lose their solid shape. It took much more effort than he could spare to get up to his knees and crawl further down the hallway, legs losing shape and trailing behind him in a strange thick fog. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, it was that his nanites literally could not keep the shape of his bones and muscles. Usually coalescing back into his body was easy as breathing, but the pulse had disrupted seemingly the process. The nanites held him together, but they couldn’t take shape-

Another pulse rippled through the fort, and this time Reaper did groan in pain. The sensation was disorienting, messing with his perception of space. Footsteps thundered closer to he gave up on keeping his shape, instead giving up on a corporeal form and transforming into smoke. It wasn’t comfortable to stay like this for too long either, but he had no way to fight back right now.

With some effort he pushed himself up and ran, stumbling and wobbling along the way. Within seconds he gave up on that, rushing back into a smoky shape and shifting past a closed door to get outside.

Shots rang out, and he recognized the sound to be that of _old_ weapons, nothing he had ever actually used in battle except for once, when he and his Strike Team had stumbled over weapons from the mid 20th century. Nothing that was in any way running on electricity… 

Rainwater was running down the walkways now, creating rivers that ran off the sides and down the fort’s outer walls. It was nearly blinding, or at least it would have been if Reaper could keep his body corporeal for long enough for it to have any effect on his mask. Angry voices could be heard from inside the buildings and down in the yard. On the opposite side of the fort Reaper could hear voices rise, and he cursed quietly. There was no way he could escape in his weakened state and his body wouldn’t regain full stability in time for him to be in the clear if he jumped off the wall and attempted to run. They would pursue him, and it would be a matter of luck and finding a hideout before he was caught. He couldn’t keep his speed up as a cloud of smoke the way he could when he ran.

His eyes scanned the area, seeking out crevices and gaps no human could fit in. If he did this carefully he might outlast the guards, hide in areas they would not think to look or where he could remain out of reach for long enough. They would either give up or get the kind of backup he couldn’t evade. The only reason they hadn’t caught Reaper yet was due to their relatively small number.

Lightning crashed somewhere over the sea and Reaper momentarily looked up, seeing the most recent addition to fort Marchetti on top of the central tower. It seemed to be the source of whatever signal was disorienting his nanites and blocked off any functionality in modern pulse ammunition based weapons. While the radius of the distortion included the very top, it occurred to Reaper that it would probably not be affected by the wave of various interference signals. No use in disorienting an enemy by risking your own ability to communicate with allies or call for support.

With a last glance around Reaper dashed towards it silently, avoiding slick stone and dissolving into mist as he moved over the walkway between the battlement and the tower.

He couldn’t escape with his body barely obeying his commands long enough to shape solid hands, so he would need to call somebody whose body didn’t turn into a puddle.

Reaper scaled the tower, somehow finding purchase in the downpour and despite his limbs increasingly disobeying him. There was a metal ladder on the side of the sleek polished metal, allowing access to the antenna for maintenance. Despite the darkness he would be spotted soon, so Reaper moved only as far as he needed to find a latch that exposed some wires after a good smack.

He hooked his arm through one of the ladder’s hoops and opened up his currently useless communicator, picking out a small wire to attach to the interior of the antenna. For a few seconds Reaper waited with bated breath, staring at the tiny screen informing him that he was attempting to hack into a protected system. Then a tiny purple skull flashed on the screen, blinking twice before confirming that a connection had been made between his communicator and the fort’s antenna. Thank christ Sombra’s handy little devices could resist interference for the most part.

Shouts sounded from below him as Reaper grinned and willed his fingers to move over the tiny keyboard quickly. He’d need to buy Sombra dinner for her little updates to his gear soon.

Reaper typed in his coordinates and a quick message about how weapons wouldn’t work before sending off his SOS. He let go off the ladder just as bullets started to ping against the tower’s metal hull.

Angry yells and more guns going off echoed around him, nearly drowned out by the rain. Reaper turned to smoke just before he hit the ground, seconds before another pulse shook through his nanites. For a few moments he cowered the ground, hissing as he realized that he couldn’t even call back the smoke into one shape for several seconds. It took entirely too much effort to even just solidify into viscous liquid to slide in between some sort of crate and the old stonewall, hiding once again. 

Several guards thundered past his little hideout, boots splashing through the puddles and angry voices rising up where he had fallen. Reaper watched out of the darkness as the men looked around with flashlights and swinging their old fashioned rifles, before giving up and running off to search for him again.

Reaper waited until he hadn’t heard anyone linger near his hideout for a few minutes before he allowed himself to relax a little, shivering as he made a weak attempt to solidify and slide out of hiding. It was uncomfortable to be like that - more so than usual as he was pushed into the half liquid state by external forces.

Another pulse shivered through Reaper only five minutes after the last. If he had a jaw he’d grit his teeth, and an angry hiss escaped the cloud of nanites. Each pulse made disoriented him further, making any hope of recovering enough to get away between each pulse moot. 

There was no way he could escape on his own if they kept that up.

At the very least he had sent out his message and if his suspicion about the communication was right it actually got out. Now the question was just about whether he would be assisted or no.

Either way, there was nothing to do but wait.

 

*~*~* 

 

Gabriel had lost count of how many hours (or was it only minutes?) he’d spent crammed into what was little more than a tiny crevice. Phantom pains shot through his body, combining the discomfort of cramping muscles and the disorientation brought on by being out of a solid shape for too long. It would alleviate the aches if only he could leave his hole to take as solid a form as he could, but the guards simply didn’t stop searching for him, running past him every few minutes it seemed.

Whoever was in charge must have realized that their intruder was still within the fort, hiding. They wouldn’t give up so easily. It was annoying how they only showed competence when Gabriel _wasn’t_ in charge.

He had tested his endurance before, knew just how much he could handle, how much pain and discomfort his body could take before he started to give in. Gabriel had never tried to see how long he could endure contorting himself into shapes as a cloud of nanites though. It would really be pathetic if he survived all that life had thrown at him only to be defeated from passing out from being uncomfortable.

“ _Where is he_?”

The voice was nearly lost in the rumble of the thunder, matching it in its growl and the primal fear it sent shivering through your body. The words were followed by a blunt crashing sound and a choked off cry. Something hard hit the ground and Gabriel nearly sobbed in relief.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

“Right here,” he hissed out, voice lost in the garble of nanites not being assembled anywhere near anything that could produce proper sound.

There was no way to let his presence known without revealing his position, so Gabriel risked it, seeped out of his little cranny and stepped into the open. Or at least he tried. The moment he took shape his legs gave out under him, muscles forming but not quickly or solidly enough to support his weight, especially not after being smoke for so long.

Seeping out in a graceful river of smoke just to fall down hard, his arms too sluggish to catch himself, was really the last thing Gabriel wanted to do in front of a small troop of subpar Talon grunts. He let out an undignified groan as he landed on the wet stone ground, right in the middle of several men with their guns pointed up.

Gabriel glanced up, eyes immediately searching for a way out. He was helpless in a fight right now, but he could at least control his nanites in so far that they were willing to turn him back into smoke. He could run, even if he hated it.

Instead his eyes landed on the one man without the dark red and black uniform of the fort’s guards.

The Soldier was nearly swallowed up by the darkness around him, towering over an unconscious Talon guard and another trying to break free of his death grip on his collar, useless rifle strapped to his back and his visor unaffected by the interference and glowing like some kind of hell beast’s eyes.

For a few seconds nothing moved, the Talon guards unsure of who to aim their guns at first, Gabriel staring up at the vigilante, and the Soldier staring down at his faintly blurred form.

Then the Soldier came to life with one fluid motion.

“What did you do to him?” he growled. His hand shot up to grab the Talon guard’s shoulder, hurling him into the air and towards the others, knocking somebody behind Gabriel off their feet.

Shots rang out and Gabriel rolled away as quickly as his body allowed, ducking his head in and covering it with his arms as best as he could. He watched as the Soldier dove down smoothly, kicking off the ground and pouncing at the shooters. His hands grabbed at the faces of the nearest two faster than they could dodge out of the way, smashing their heads together hard enough for the helmets to crack audibly as they gave in under the force.

One of the guards made the mistake of trying to shoot the Soldier at point blank range. The shot rang out and hit nothing, as the Soldier dashed at him smoothly and grabbed the man’s arm. Even through the storm Gabriel could hear the crack of bone and the muffled scream of pain as the guard was thrown against another.

He moved like lighting, power thrumming through his entire body as he threw a punch and the next unlucky guard. His fists flew so quickly that Gabriel could barely follow their movement; eyes fixed on the way the Soldier’s body moved smoothly and with raw force, more dangerous and intimidating than a wild beat, boiling rage somehow pulled into a precise eruption.

The Talon guards stood no change at all. They weren’t trying to shoot anymore, not able to aim properly anyway with how quickly the Soldier moved. He took every hit they tried to dish out like it was nothing, shrugging off any assault and pushing through it, tearing through the guards like they were puppets, dropping them one by one, preferring to hurt over trying to keep the hits from landing on him.

Gabriel couldn’t quite tell if his mouth was hanging open or not, unable to tear his eyes away from the Soldier. He would never tire of watching him fight. There was nobody left in their immediate vicinity - that would change in just a few minutes, yet Gabriel didn’t quite care.

The Soldier surveyed the damage he’d done briefly, with unconscious or whimpering guards all around him. He straightened up, leaving his fight stance and light caught on the rain running down the leather of his jacket. Then finally his full attention was on Gabriel again.

“What did they do to you?” he asked, sinking to his knees in front of Gabriel, hand reaching for one of the biotic emitters on his belt before he remembered that they most likely were useless right now too.

“There’s an interference signal… something like an EMP, but worse,” Gabriel managed to say, though his attempt to point towards the tower ended with a weak twitch of his arm. “Makes my nanites unable to give me a proper body.”

Jack grunted in acknowledgement.

“Can you walk?”

“No, can’t even- hey!”

Without letting Gabriel finish Jack nodded and wrapped his arms around him to hoist him up over his shoulder.

“Hold on tight, if you can,” he ordered.

Jack briefly stopped to pick up one of the guns that had been fired at him, checked to see if he had damaged it, and then set off running.

Gabriel could barely cling to Jack’s back as he was carried off and towards a set of narrow steps leading up towards the battlements. He was jostled around as his saviour seemed more keen on getting out as fast as possible than make it a gentle ride. Not that Gabriel minded as much, pressed to Jack’s body as he was.

Shouts rose up the second Jack was up the stairs, and Gabriel heard bullets crash into old stone in tiny explosions. Jack ran ducked as low as he could, occasionally flicking his wrist to shoot back. They had no cover at all, the only thing keeping the guards from landing a good hit being the darkness and the way rain made it hard to see.

Jack came to a halt at the furthest corner of the fort, shooting a few times more before attaching the gun to his belt and tightening his hold on Gabriel.

“Hold on,” he said, and before Gabriel could reply he was already jumping over the balustrade. His hand shot out to grab onto a rope that was attached there, and they were sliding down just a touch slower than falling freely would be.

It wasn’t the most elegant way to get in and out of a fort like that, Jack’s entrance probably going unnoticed as the Talon guards were preoccupied with looking for the intruder they knew was present.

By now the rain drowned out any voices that weren’t Jack’s quiet assurances that it wouldn’t take much longer. Gabriel mustered enough control of his arms to push against Jack’s back to look up, searching for any pursuers. He couldn’t see where they were going in his current position, but when he spotted outlines of people through the rain he grabbed at Jack’s stolen gun and managed to fire a few times. They were little better than warning shots in his current predicament and being jostled around yet again, but at least he got the guards to try and find cover instead of shooting briefly.

“Hope you don’t mind my flying skills in a storm,” Jack muttered as they reached a sleek plane, partially hidden behind some bushes.

It was one of the fast models Overwatch had once used to deploy for quick recon missions. With only enough room for two, maybe three if you didn’t mind squeezing in uncomfortably, and no weapons. Instead it was incredibly light and easy to manoeuvre if you know how to handle strong winds tossing you around. Jack must have gotten it from Gibraltar, being free to take his pick of whatever equipement he might need without any questions asked.

“When was the last time you took a test to renew your fighter jet licence?” Gabriel asked as Jack shoved him into the co pilot seat quickly and joined to buckle in himself.

“Ah… Right before taking Fareeha flying for her birthday.”

“That was nearly twenty years ago,” Gabriel complained as the plane around him thrummed to life. He sank into the seat, glad that he didn’t need to try and get his limbs to behave anymore. Honestly being in Jack’s hands, no matter how rusty he was with flying, was an incredible relief. Though it wasn’t the wisest thing to trust Jack with transportation in such weather conditions, Gabriel couldn’t help but feel like he was already safe.

He heard Jack chuckle as he removed his mask and put it aside, quickly shooting out towards the sea.

“I still don’t know what you were even doing up there, but thanks for the fun I guess. I was just going to be bored and fall asleep in front of the TV if I hadn’t gotten your message.”

Gabriel didn’t take off his own mask, his body feeling like he had worked out way too much but without the sore muscles. The image of Jack crushing a small squad of armed Talon guards with his bare fists played in his mind again and he had to squirm in his seat a little.

“You enjoyed yourself way too much there, sugar tits.”

Again Jack laughed. He was flying the plane much too low, shooting over the sea with waves rising high enough to nearly hit them, staying low and out of sight in case anyone was pursuing them. Drones sometimes had trouble with these conditions, but Jack wasn’t exactly the most experienced flier they had. At least he was focusing on flying, not looking over to Gabriel even once. 

“It’s not every day that I get to let out my frustrations on some criminals while saving my damsel in distress.”

“I wasn’t in distress,” Gabriel muttered, though the idea of Jack swooping in like a proper action hero to carry him into the sunset was appealing. In most shitty action movies he’d seen the situation would end with the rescued party rewarding their hero with some quality time… again he sank lower into his seat.

“Did you at least get what you went there for?”

“For the most part. I was about to scare a certain mid tier Talon member to death when I lost control of my body.”

Jack hummed in acknowledgement and ran a hand through his soaked hair. Gabriel followed the motion with his eyes as subtly as he could. Jack looked completely dishevelled – always a good look on him.

They were quiet as the tiny jet sped across the stormy Mediterranean, the soft thrum of the engine and the elements raging around them filling the silence. Gabriel barely paid attention to their coordinates, stuck between wanting to catch some sleep and the nervous energy vibrating through his body. It wasn’t just the way he still felt like he hadn’t regained full control of his muscles yet, or the brief spike of adrenaline as he was being chased by armed guards while he had nothing. He’d been through worse before.

He just couldn’t stop replaying the image of Jack rushing in to rescue him in his head.

Gabriel couldn’t remember the last time this had happened just like that. With him not being too in pain or preoccupied with fighting himself to watch him. With Jack for some reason using his fists rather than a well aimed shot. With Jack not holding back as he did when sparring.

It was… an experience to say the least.

Eventually Jack flew them higher than before, moving over land. They were somewhere in southern France now, now moving towards a set destination instead of just away from potential pursuers.

“You were lucky I was staying so close when your distress signal reached me,” Jack commented, checking his coordinates again. “Not sure how long it’d have taken me to reach you otherwise.”

“What, no illegal long distance planes for the former Strike Commander?” Gabriel snorted. He tried to peer outside but the rain that had raged at the coast wasn’t any weaker here. It looked like they were flying over trees, far from any kind of civilisation.

“I’m sure I could have arranged something eventually. Don’t think you liked hiding in some tiny hole for that long though.”

Gabriel briefly considered if he could make a comment about how Jack certainly didn’t mind it, but at that point he felt their little plane slow down and hover towards the ground.

They really were in a forest, with Jack carefully setting down in a clearing in front of a quaint little cabin. He couldn’t see very far, but he could make out a dark barn close to it. There was a truck with actual wheels inside and a sleek bike that was modelled after ones from the past century. Gabriel could only make those out as lights turned on within the barn at their approach, revealing that it really was more of a hangar than a cute little barn.

Jack carefully manoeuvred them inside, setting down the jet soundlessly.

“It’s about half an hour drive to the nearest village,” he explained. “The only tourists that come do it for the wine and cheese, otherwise it’s really just farmland. There’s occasionally people who want to enjoy the nature and scientists and such, so the locals don’t question my presence too much. They probably think I just want to appreciate a nice and peaceful landscape.”

Gabriel watched as Jack hopped out of the jet and went to close the barn doors manually from the outside. They squeaked as if they had never been oiled, though judging by the inside of the barn the old weathered exterior was more for show. The set up in Jack’s little hideout wasn’t any worse than old tiny Watchpoints had been like. It certainly paid off being part of the Recall.

As he waited Gabriel flexed his hands experimentally. His limbs obeyed him after a few moments of delay, movements stiff and awkward. The strange pinprick sensation ran through his entire body again, and trying to adjust a leg nearly made him hiss out loud. It wasn’t painful as such, but the strange discomfort just made it hard to go through with anything.

The lights dimmed outside and the plane’s door next to Gabriel opened up to reveal Jack.

“Can you walk again?”

“I can try,” Gabriel started, attempting to lift his leg once again but being interrupted by Jack’s snort.

Gentle but firm hands slid under him and then Gabriel was being lifted up and cradled against Jack’s chest. With nobody attempting to shoot them Jack took his time adjusting his grip and walked him out of the hangar disguised as a barn slowly. Outside it was still raining so they did end up half running towards the cabin, though Jack slowed down again once they were safe inside.

It was warm and cosy inside, with the smell of roasted meat coming from behind a closed door in the hallway. Jack had only left a few hours ago, and he must really have had a quiet night from the looks of it.

Gabriel somehow managed to lift one arm to wrap around Jack’s shoulders, enjoying how he was carried up the stairs – even if it was due to his current helplessness. He could perhaps shift into smoke and go under his own strength, but he had already spent too much of the night like that. Besides, Jack wouldn’t carry him if he was smoke.

To his delight it was Jack’s bedroom they were headed to. It was a large, with very little personal belongings scattered about besides reading glasses and a book on the bedside table but a decor one would expect from a cabin in the middle of the woods. Everything was wooden with old fashioned furniture and dim lights that turned on when Jack entered. Another door was on the opposite side of them, leading to a dark bathroom. Gabriel was placed on the bed and Jack quietly groaned as he ran his hand through his hair again. He had dried a little on their flight, but now he was once again completely drenched.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, shrugging his shoulders to peel out of his leather jacket.

Gabriel felt his mouth go dry as he watched Jack move about in his clothes dripping rainwater everywhere. Everything clung to his body in ways that couldn’t be comfortable but looked absolutely delicious.

Jack bent down to take off his boots, the material of his pants stretching across his ass just right and Gabriel finally had to look away for a moment to compose himself. Instead of ogling Jack he focused on getting rid of his own clothes, something that was laughably easy in comparison if one could just will them away.

Within moments Gabriel was dressed only in a tank top and pants, everything else shifting away. He was barely even wet from the rain, his own coat a better protection than Jack’s clothes. With a sigh he leaned against the pillows and dug his bare feet into the duvet he had been dumped on, relishing the feeling of softness. Everything was slightly distorted to his nerves, but the sensations were still pleasant.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Gabriel glanced up and wished he hadn’t.

Jack had grabbed a towel from somewhere, rubbing it at his hair slowly as he smirked in Gabriel’s direction. He was mostly out of his clothes now, still wearing his combat pants and a too tight t-shirt that now looked like it was painted on.

“Can you blame me, after the day I just had?” Gabriel muttered as his eyes fixed on Jack’s hands. He tugged at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, revealing skin way too casually as he dropped the shirt on the floor where the rest of his clothes were.

Even his skin was damp from the rain, catching the light just right and highlighting every muscle perfectly, from his solid abs to the way his pecs moved with each motion. Jack wasn’t as soft as he used to be once, age and the past decade’s stress carving away anything soft and cuddly that was left in his appearance, leaving only harsh and rock solid edges. Gabriel absolutely wanted to rub his entire body against what he saw.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Gabriel glanced up at Jack, who had stopped what he was doing and was giving him the raised eyebrow of mild disapproval. He must have been asking something, but Gabriel hummed and moved his eyes back to Jack’s stomach.

“No.”

Jack snorted and stepped towards the bed.

“Gabe… are you… _horny_? After everything?”

Gabriel raised his own eyebrows; eyes still fixed on the way Jack’s stomach flexed.

“Can you blame me after that daring rescue?”

Jack put a knee on the bed, half leaning over Gabriel with a slight leer.

“Can you even get it up in your current state?”

“Do I need to do that if I want you to fuck me silly?”

Jack paused for a moment, before a grin spread across his face.

“If that’s what you want…?”

He crawled onto the bed properly, not quite touching Gabriel but looming over him. A full body shiver ran through Gabriel, actually making his fingers twitch into smoke for a moment. Heat was radiating of Jack and he was so close now, he could practically taste it.

Jack leaned down for a kiss, sloppy and open mouthed and the hottest thing Gabriel could remember experiencing in his entire life. He whined, willing for the last of his clothes to disappear so there was nothing between him and Jack at all.

Noticing the smoke Jack leaned back again, raising an eyebrow.

“Really now?”

“Yes. Now take that off,” Gabriel whined, tilting his chin up and glaring at Jack’s pants, and more importantly at the way they started to tent.

“Ungrateful,” Jack grinned, but he did sit back to take care of his belt.

Gabriel watched with barely contained anticipation. Normally he’d be trying his best to help and speed the process of getting Jack naked along, but right now his limbs wouldn’t obey anyway. He felt both light and too heavy to move at once, completely at Jack’s mercy and unable to grab and touch and demand that they get on with it already.

With some fumbling Jack finally managed to slide his soaked pants off, taking his briefs down at the same time. He was hard already, cock flushed and curving up towards his stomach and Gabriel couldn’t even deny that he was drooling at the sight.

He wanted that in him, _now_.

“Come on, Jackie, give it to me already,” Gabriel begged, any attempts at keeping his dignity intact out the window the second Jack’s cock was in reach (theoretically, if he put enough effort into raising his arm).

“Let me get lube first,” Jack said, making a move to step away from the bed.

With a desperate whine Gabriel hooked his ankle over Jack’s leg, barely able to keep the position as his entire body tingled with the motion.

“I’ve wanted to sit on your dick since the second you knocked out the first guy, you come over here and fuck me now!”

Seeing Jack’s sceptical glance he quickly went on.

“I don’t need it, trust me. I can’t move well but if there’s anything I can do it’s _relax_.”

“You’ll try to poison my breakfast if you can’t sit down tomorrow,” Jack joked, but he did move back to lean over Gabriel’s body.

It was a little awkward for him to reach for his bedside table like that, but despite Gabriel’s protests he fished out a small bottle of clear liquid. It wasn’t anywhere near half full, and Gabriel purred quietly at the thought of Jack having his own private time in this little cabin of his.

He watched the way Jack’s muscles flexed as he opened the bottle one handed, coating his fingers and rubbing them together to warm up the lube a little. He was too distracted to even try spreading his legs properly, leaving Jack to shove them apart not ungently. By now Gabriel was painfully hard and he couldn’t wait for things to get going.

At the first push of Jack’s fingers against his hole he nearly sobbed, and again when Jack paused in what he was doing.

“You don’t really…” he started, staring at his hand. “… feel _solid_.”

Gabriel stared at Jack and then at his own cock.

“Is this some kind of joke to you?”

Jack snorted and shoved a second finger in easily, effectively cutting off any protests about his comment.

“Not that, you dork. Your entire body just feels kind of like… Pudding.”

Gabriel couldn’t even think of a reply as Jack pushed a third finger in, finding no resistance at all. He moaned loudly as Jack started to thrust them gently, placing his free hand on Gabriel’s stomach as if to keep him pinned. Not that he could move very far anyway, or like he wanted to do more than shallowly grind back against Jack’s hand. By now Gabriel wasn’t even try to do anything, just letting Jack do whatever he wanted.

“I think you’re ready, babe,” Jack said after a few moments of that, surprising Gabriel. It was rare that Jack was happy with this little preparation.

He looked way too smug as he pumped his cock a few times; admiring the way Gabriel was falling apart under his hands so easily.

“Come on, come on,” Gabriel sobbed, weakly trying to reach for Jack where he was kneeling over him. “I’ve been thinking about this for hours!”

Jack settled down between Gabriel’s legs, grabbing his thighs and pulling him up towards him.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you enjoyed me beating up some punks more than I did.”

“Enjoyed watching.”

Then Gabriel couldn’t say anything at all anymore as Jack lined up his cock and pushed in. He let out a groan as he was met with no resistance and his fingers tightened on Gabriel’s hips.

For a few moments Gabriel was sure that he was blacking out. He could feel nothing but the overwhelming sensations radiating from where Jack was touching him, fingers digging into skin and cock thrusting in over and over with a perfect pace and just enough friction to drive him mad.

Each thrust had Gabriel slide over the sheets, moaning loudly and legs bouncing uselessly against Jack’s sides.

“That’s it,” Jack growled, tightening his grip. “There’s nobody here to yell at us, be as loud as you want, babe.”

“ _Jack_ ,” Gabriel cried out, gasping with each thrust. “Jackie!”

His limbs felt strangely boneless and when Gabriel bothered to glance down he saw smoke drifting off his body, his arms and legs looking soft and barely real somehow, as if the only reason his body was keeping it together was to remain pinned by Jack’s hands.

Each thrust made Gabriel feel like he was falling apart, each motion rolling Jack’s stomach just right. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to watch Jack’s muscles or feel them press against his body, feel his cock slide over those abs.

Somehow his inability to decide made Gabriel feel like weeping.

“Jackie, _Jackie_ ,” he whined. “I need- I can’t-“

Jack stopped his thrusts just long enough to stare down at Gabriel, slightly out of breath and cheeks flushed. He looked absolutely unfairly gorgeous.

“What is it?” he asked, earning a little whine from Gabriel. Mercifully he seemed to understand Gabriel’s indecision, as he smiled softly and ran his hands over Gabriel’s body.

“I’ve got you.”

He stretched out on top of Gabriel, pressing him down into the blankets with his weight and running a hand along his face. It immediately turned out to be the correct option, as Jack was within kissing range.

Once Jack’s lips moved against his, stubbly skin scratching against Gabriel’s cheeks, he truly forgot what was going on anymore. He somehow managed to wrap his arms around Jack, forming claws to hold on. There was only pleasure and Jack grinding against him and being filled up completely and-

Gabriel was vaguely aware of screaming Jack’s name as the shocks of his orgasm hit him like a brick. Pleasure drowned out any sensation he had, breaking the last semblance of control over his body.

He was breathing had and trembling as he rode out the pleasure, hearing Jack curse and groan distantly as he came, though Gabriel couldn’t see or feel much besides his own pleasure.

The mattress dipped as Jack let himself fall next to Gabriel, catching his breath. When Gabriel could make sense of the world around him again Jack was grinning at him.

“I guess it was good for you?”

“Shut up,” Gabriel muttered with no heat, rolling over and on top of Jack, relishing his warmth and the arms that wrapped around him.

“You can’t just go be a perfect angry hero and swoop in when I call and _not_ expect me to want to ride your dick.”

“You didn’t actually ride or do anything at all, Gabe.”

“Whatever, next time then,” Gabriel grunted, pressing his face against Jack’s chest. As hard as his pecs were, Jack’s chest was still the best pillow one could ever ask for. “And I expect next time to happen the second you can get it up again.”

Jack laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and through Gabriel.

“I think you need to have a _body_ first, for me to fuck you again,” he chided, petting at Gabriel’s head.

“What?”

Gabriel glanced up at Jack’s grinning face, and then down at himself. Instead of arms and legs wrapping around his partner’s body there was… darkness. He had dissolved, not quite smoke but certainly not solid, little more than a slightly twitching blanket with tendrils wrapping around Jack and clinging to him tightly.

“What the-“

He tried to will his body into returning to its correct shape, but it refused. Whatever control he had over the nanites before was gone, his entire system overwhelmed with conveying the information of pleasure and being thoroughly screwed silly.

“Looks like we found a way to actually keep your dick in your pants,” Jack joked, petting at Gabriel in a way that translated to the sensation of a back rub.

Gabriel let out a frustrated growl before resting his face against Jack’s chest again, frustration quickly melting away with Jack’s heartbeat under his hands and the deep relaxation of being thoroughly fucked returning.

“Don’t celebrate too soon,” he muttered, curling up around Jack as much as he could. “The moment I’m an actual solid body again-“

“Sure,” Jack promised with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of Gabriel’s head. “Whatever you want, darling.”


End file.
